JANE ELLIOT

At e'en, in the gloaming, nae swankies are roaming , 'Bout stacks wi' the lasses at bogle to play;

But ilk ane sits eerie, lamenting her dearie The Flowers of the Forest are a* wede away.

Dool and wae for the order sent our lads to the Border I The English, for ance, by guile wan the day ;

The Flowers of the Forest, that fought aye the foremost, The prime of our land, lie cauld in the clay.

We'll hear nae mair lilting at our ewe-milking;

Women and bairns are heartless and wae ; Sighing and moaning on ilka green loaning

The Flowers of the Forest are a' wede away.

��OLIVER GOLDSMITH Woman

YVTHEN lovely woman stoops to folly,

• And finds too late that men betray,

What charm can soothe her melancholy ? What art can wash her tears away ?

The only art her guilt to cover,

To hide her shame from ev'ry eye, To give repentance to her lover,

And wring his bosom is to die.

466. swankies] lusty lads. bogle] bogy, hide-and-seek,

dool] mourning.

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